Daughter of Gondor
by Tirilan
Summary: Fíriel is the daughter of Denethor and his late lady Finduilas and youngest sister of Boromir and Faramir. Despised by her father and loved by her brothers, she longs for adventure outside the city walls. Little does she know what is coming her way...
1. Chapter 1: Reunited

Chapter One: Reunited

It was high summer in the land of Gondor. Fields and meadows were covered with flowers and the great river Anduin shone brilliantly as the sun began to stretch its luminous rays over the water and the great plain that lay between the sister-cities of Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. Fíriel, youngest daughter of the Lord Denethor and his late wife Lady Finduilas, paced the battlements of the city walls restlessly looking northwards for some sign of the return of her brothers. Boromir and Faramir had been away fighting near the borders that separated Gondor from the country of Rohan. Most Gondorians regarded the people of Rohan as much wilder and less civilized than themselves. Fíriel, however, had always been extremely interested in everything that lay to the north of her city. Although she loved Minas Tirith, she longed to travel beyond the stone walls and go to war like her brothers. She did not much like the idea of killing people, but she was very patriotic and wanted to do everything she could to aid her countrymen. However, her father rarely allowed her to do anything that she wanted. Certainly he would hear of no proposition that involved her going beyond the walls…especially with her brothers absent. Letting out a long sigh, she leaned her chin in her hands and glanced up at the black banner flying above her with a silver tree emblazoned in the midst. After a few moments, a black moving mass appeared on the horizon. Fíriel jerked her head up and narrowed her eyes against the brightness of the sun in a vain attempt to get a better view. Then, quite suddenly, a loud noise of trumpets sounded from the high tower of Minas Tirith and Fíriel turned swiftly on her heel and rushed down the stone staircase. She was met by Beregond, Captain of the Citadel Guard. He bowed.

"Lady, the lords Boromir and Faramir have returned in triumph from our northern-eastern borders and driven back the forces of the Dark Lord…"

Fíriel nodded understandingly. No one dared mention Sauron's name in the city.

_They may have driven them back,_ she thought. _But it is only a matter of time before Sauron gathers his forces together and strikes again…_

Nevertheless, she was thrilled at the prospect of having her brothers safely back home again.

"The lord Denethor also bade me to summon you to his presence," Beregond continued.

"Thank you, Captain."

* * *

As Fíriel climbed up to the highest level of the city, she turned her face upwards toward the sky. Over the city, the sky was as blue as clear ocean water. But to the east, dark clouds loomed and liquid lava from the dreaded Mount Doom rose high into the sky. Fíriel suddenly shivered in the heat of the day and walked slowly up the few steps to the great doors that led to the main audience chamber. Upon her approach, two guards pushed the heavy doors open and she entered the great hall silently. The echo of the doors closing was the only noise in the chamber and Denethor, seated at the foot of the White Throne of the King, motioned for his daughter to come forward. Fíriel did so. She curtseyed according to custom and took her stance behind her father's seat only moments before the great doors swung open once more to admit two men whom Fíriel recognized as her dear brothers. Boromir had not changed a bit, except for a nasty red slash that ran down one side of his face and had barely missed his eye. Faramir, on the other hand, had grown taller…taller even than Boromir. Fíriel supposed that it was something she and Faramir had inherited from their mother. Although she desperately wanted to run and throw herself into the arms of her brothers (who were, in fact, far more fatherly to her than Denethor), she knew that she would provoke the anger of her father by doing so. Thus, she was forced to remain where she was. As his sons entered the hall, Denethor rose from his seat and came down a few steps to welcome them. He embraced Boromir,

"You have driven the forces of Mordor from our northern borders, my son?" he asked, ignoring Faramir, who stood a little behind.

Boromir, Fíriel thought, noticed this and said,

"It was mostly Faramir, Father. He is a brilliant tactician and…" he glanced at Faramir and put his arm around his younger brother's shoulder. "We would not have won this battle without him."

Fíriel smiled to herself. Faramir had always been more of a thinker than Boromir. Denethor, however, eyed Faramir coldly.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, Father." Boromir replied. And Fíriel could sense the exasperation behind his voice.

Denethor, for the sake of propriety, stepped up to Faramir and embraced him briefly before pulling himself away. He muttered,

"Then we are indebted to you also, Faramir."

Then he turned back to Boromir,

"Tonight we will all dine together and you will give me a full account of the battle."

Boromir and Faramir bowed and turned to leave. Before her father could turn back to his seat, Fíriel slipped out of another door. After climbing down several levels of the city, she found her brothers in the stables. She leaned against the doorframe and waited for them to notice her.

"…It's not that, Faramir," Boromir was saying as he finished checking a loose shoe on the hoof of his warhorse.

"Isn't it?" Faramir asked doubtfully.

Boromir would have replied, but he happened to look up in the direction of the doorway and shouted,

"Fíriel!"

Fíriel smiled and ran towards him and very soon found herself enveloped in his affectionate embrace. Faramir came forward too and held her tightly for a few moments before letting her go.

"I've missed you so much. You were gone for so long that you were beginning to worry me," she scolded.

They laughed and confessed to her that it had, indeed been a much longer expedition than they themselves had expected. However, Fíriel sensed that there was something more than her brothers were telling her. She pulled them both down beside her on a bench,

"What is it, Boromir? What troubles you?"

Boromir sighed. When it became obvious that he would say nothing, Fíriel turned to Faramir and grasped his hand in sudden fear. Faramir took a deep breath and said,

"About a fortnight ago, a strange dream came to me…"

Fíriel listened intently, and her brother continued,

"In the dream I beheld the sky in the East grow dark with thunder clouds. Yet, in the West there was light and a voice that cried,

_Seek for the Sword that was broken:_

_In Imladris it dwells_

_There shall be counsels taken_

_Stronger than Morgul-spells._

_There shall be shown a token_

_That Doom is near at hand,_

_Fir Isildur's Bane shall waken,_

_And the Halfling forth shall stand._

"This was on the eve of battle," he said. "After I dreamed this dream the first time, I dreamt it many times again. And it visited Boromir, too."

Fíriel sat quietly in deep thought, but could make little or no sense of the dream.

"Tonight we will speak to Father about it," said Boromir, speaking for the first time since Faramir had begun telling the story.

Fíriel nodded her approval. As well as being the ruling Steward of Minas Tirith, Denethor was very knowledgeable in all the areas of lore and legends of Middle-Earth.

* * *

Like it? Hate it? Let me know! Please review!

**Justine**


	2. Chapter 2: Myth and Legend

A/N: Here it is! Finally! Chapter two is up! I'm really truly sorry that I didn't update sooner but I have been extremely busy! I will definitely be updating on a more regular basis in the summer when school is out! I would also like to say a huge thank you to MiniFruitbat, Moromu, and SarahBarr17 who were my first reviewers! Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Two: Myth and Legend

Fíriel leaned back in her seat with frustration. It had been at least a half hour since they had finished dinner, and still neither Boromir nor Faramir had spoken to their father about the dream… She yawned and looked up at Faramir.

_If you don't tell him now you won't get another chance_… she warned him with her eyes.

He nodded, almost as though he had understood her and nudged Boromir quietly so Denethor would not notice. Boromir waited patiently his father to finish speaking (they had been talking about the battle and the strategies that had been used) before clearing his throat and addressing the Steward.

"Father," he said in a low voice. "There is a great matter at hand, which we must turn our attention to…"

"My son!" Denethor turned to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "You have driven the armies of the Dark Lord back and nothing can be more important right now than celebrating your victory!"

"The next battle we fight may not be a victory if you do hear me out and consider carefully what I am about to tell you," Boromir replied boldly.

Fíriel inhaled sharply: no one spoke to the Steward like that... Boromir, however, continued in the same tone without faltering,

"The Ring of Power has been found."

A dead moment of silence filled the hall. Denethor sat frozen to his seat and the color drained from his face. Fíriel moved as if to go to him, but Boromir gestured for her to remain where she was. With the same frozen look, Denethor whispered,

"If this is so…" he paused.

"Yes, Father?" Faramir pressed gently.

Denethor rose from his seat and walked to a window to the side of the chamber. Boromir and Faramir got up from their seats also, but only Boromir followed his father and placed a hand on his shoulder while Faramir hung slightly back.

"What is it, Father?" Boromir asked.

Denethor did not respond to the question immediately and stared out of the window over the White City.

"The Lord Elrond of Rivendell has summoned a Council of the peoples of Middle-Earth," he began at last. "Elves, Dwarves, and Men alike… all are called. I am sure now that it is to decide the fate of Isildur's Bane…"

Fíriel strained her ears to hear the murmured conversation and rose from her place to stand beside Faramir.

"You must go to Rivendell," Denethor pressed. "Bring the Ring to Gondor, and let us use it against the Enemy. With the Ring of Power in our hands, we will be a match even for the Dark Lord…"

Boromir shook his head wearily. This was not the result he had wanted from his father.

"My place is here. I will not be sent on a fool's errand to Rivendell when I am needed here to protect my people."

"Will you refuse to obey me in this matter, then?" Denethor's eyes blazed.

Faramir now stepped towards his father and brother. Fíriel caught at his hand to keep him back…but not quickly enough.

"There is no need, Father," he said. "Send me to Rivendell in Boromir's place."

Denethor raised an eyebrow,

"You?"

He laughed…

_A cruel laugh_, Fíriel thought.

"With such great risks at hand, do you think I would entrust this mission to someone I do not deem worthy enough? No, this is a quest suited for you brother…"

He turned to Boromir,

"The greatest and noblest warrior in the realm of Gondor!"

* * *

"You will not go, Boromir?!" Fíriel cried later that night. "Indeed, you cannot! You are the only one who has any influence over the mind and decisions made by our father… The country will suffer if you leave! And what will Faramir and I do without you?"

Boromir dropped his proud head a little,

"I know, little sister. But I am not in a position to overrule Father's wishes whether he is Steward of the city or not."

Fíriel sank down into a chair with her arms crossed.

"Oh Boromir," she said. "Why do you never rebel against him? Why do you never refuse to do his bidding no matter how unreasonable it may be?"

"The trouble of it is, I suppose, that I always do as I am told and you never do," Boromir answered with a smile.

Faramir, who was leaning against a pillar nearby, laughed and added,

"Yes, now I think of it, that is very true."

"Whatever became of your intended betrothal to the son of King Theoden of Rohan? Boromir asked suddenly "I forget his name…"

"Theodred," Faramir said quickly.

He paused for a moment and continued thoughtfully,

"Poor Fíriel would not have him despite the fact that she could have become Queen of Rohan one day…"

"No," said Fíriel defiantly. "And I will hold true to what I said then. I have no wish to leave Gondor and be queen of a wild northern country."

"It would have strengthened the alliance between our countries…" Boromir mused.

"If our sister would have been miserable, then who are we to force her?" Faramir countered. "But you might have given the man a chance," he continued, turning back to Fíriel.

"Do you blame me?" Fíriel asked quietly.

Both of her brothers spoke at the same time,

"No, no, of course not."

"I have heard that Father is opening up negotiations again," said Boromir after a moment.

"I won't do it," Fíriel said stubbornly. "And that's that."

Boromir and Faramir exchanged secret smiles. Their sister was certainly to be admired for her spirit and determination.

* * *

A/N: Well, there's chapter two for you! Again I am really sorry that I haven't been able to update sooner but schoolwork is really demanding right know with diplomas coming up… Please review and keep checking back for more updates :)

**Justine**


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